


The Pattern of the Carpet

by Dats_der_bunny



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Gen, I find the Dis-Organiser way too funny, Not even sure how to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dats_der_bunny/pseuds/Dats_der_bunny
Summary: Vimes is badly injured and Vetinari pays him a visit. And he's of no help at all. Can be read as a prequel to Plague in Ankh-Morpork if you like, or as a stand-alone.Inspired by a quote from Night Watch.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari & Samuel Vimes, Sybil Ramkin/Samuel Vimes
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	The Pattern of the Carpet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scent_of_books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scent_of_books/gifts).



> This is set somewhere between The Fifth Elephant and The Truth. Most of this was stuff I was desperately trying to crowbar into my Plague fic, but it didn’t really make sense (which is why I’ve stalled so badly, turns out I needed to move on with my life and start the next chapter from scratch again!).
> 
> I'm living in a little headcanon where Vetinari and Sybil are best friends and Vimes just tolerates it in the same way as putting up with dragons dribbling on his feet at the dinner table: begrudgingly.
> 
> @Scent_of_books - this is for you - as soon as you've finished The Fifth Elephant (sorry, I know you've still got a little way to go!)

“ _He remembered once when he’d been stabbed and would’ve bled to death if Sergeant Angua hadn’t caught up with him, and how, as he lay there, he’d found himself taking a very intense interest in the pattern of the carpet. The senses say: we’ve only got a few minutes, let’s record everything, in every detail…_ ” - Night Watch, Terry Pratchett.

Vimes’s eyes snapped open. His inner copper remembered that it had still been light outside when he was last awake, but he had no other way of telling how much time had passed. He struggled to sit up and fell back against the pillows, wincing at the sudden, piercing protest from the general direction of the bandages around his ribs. He made another attempt and this time managed to use his elbows to prop himself up.

When he caught sight of Lord Vetinari sitting in a chair at the other end of the room, reading by candlelight, Vimes made a rather complicated noise along the lines of ‘Murghhh?’

‘Do you know, Commander,’ said the Patrician, setting his book aside, ‘That is quite possibly the most sensible thing you’ve said for weeks?’

‘Oh, sod off,’ said Vimes, closing his eyes again.

‘Charming as ever. How are you feeling?’

Vimes wrestled with the sticky, dense cobwebs in his mind, but the more he tried to fight them, the more they clung to him. He was searching for a word, any word at all, that wasn’t foul or obscene in some way. In the end, he settled on: ‘Rough.’ He was trying to concentrate on taking shallow, controlled breaths, but even then, his chest felt as though… Well, as though some bugger had managed to get a knife in under his breastplate and given it a twist for good measure. ‘How long have I been asleep?’ he croaked.

Vetinari sighed deeply and gave him a solemn look. ‘I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, Commander. You’ve been in a coma for over two years.’

‘What?! Two years?!’

Vimes caught the tiniest hint of a smile crossing the Patrician’s face, and the penny spun and rolled and finally dropped.

‘Oh gods, you bastard!’

The smile was growing, and even hidden behind Vetinari’s hand it was starting to get dangerously close to becoming a fledgling expression of genuine emotion.

‘You utter bastard!’

The smile was threatening to take flight and sing.

‘No, that wasn’t funny! Gods, I could kill you!’

Vetinari’s shoulders started to shake with the effort of suppressing the laughter, which only irritated Vimes all the more; he knew that Vetinari was more than capable of stopping any time he liked and that this was all for show. Vimes scowled as Vetinari took a deep breath and composed himself again.

Vetinari ignored the glare and crossed the room to the bedside table, where he retrieved a small bottle and tipped two pills into his hand.

There was still a slight twinkle in his eyes, and his face seemed lighter somehow. As the last of the fog in his brain receded, blasted away by the sheer force of the anger, he had to admit that he did like seeing Vetinari like that from time to time. He begrudgingly took the proffered pills, wincing slightly as he moved his arm, and allowed Vetinari to help him take a sip of water.

‘Forgive me, Commander, I simply couldn’t resist. You were brought in yesterday evening. Igor has done a remarkable job of patching you up, but he says you will need to remain here for at least another three weeks to convalesce.’

Ha! Not bloody likely. Vimes did a quick mental stock-take. As much as he wanted to strangle the bastard, he seriously doubted that he’d have half a chance even if he hadn’t been knifed and left for dead.

‘Come now, it was just a little bit amusing, wasn’t it?’ said Vetinari.

‘Yeah, sure, my sides are splitting,’ Vimes grumbled.

Vetinari laughed, properly this time, and Vimes hoped that the little flutter in his chest was due to the painkillers acting remarkably quickly, or possibly even the start of a heart attack, rather than a pathetic little feeling of pride at making the man laugh. Ye gods, he thought, maybe I really am his bloody dog.

That thought in itself gave rise to a series of other thoughts, the first pebbles cascading down the mountain slope before the landslide. He asked the question that had, for some time, been madly ringing its bell and shouting “it’s 12 o’clock and all’s not well at all!”, suddenly very aware that he was not wearing very many clothes at all.

‘Why are you even here?’

‘Hmm? Oh, Carrot has already got a message to Lady Sybil. She is, of course, already on her way back, but she asked me to check on you. Just for her peace of mind, I suppose.’

Vimes groaned. Sybil was in Quirm for some dragon show or other. She hadn’t been to one since their wedding, which he had always felt guilty about. He’d finally managed to convince her to go and stay with the Duchess of Quirm and talk about dragons and just enjoy herself for a few days.

So much for that.

He shifted his weight and winced again. Suddenly, he was back in that room, sinking to his knees, then to the ground, bright white pain, blood oozing, warm, sticky, draining, numb, cold, fading. Then, nothing.

‘There were 71 flowers on the carpet,’ he thought.

Except that he hadn’t thought it, he’d said it aloud, and Vetinari was staring at him.

This wasn’t a signature Oblong Office stare, this was something different, and no less terrifying. He stared right back at him.

‘Did they catch him?’ he asked, at last.

Vetinari nodded. ‘He’ll hang, Commander.’

Vimes held his gaze and nodded. Then, suddenly, the moment was over. Vetinari picked up his book again and absent-mindedly skimmed his fingers through the pages a few times and twirled the ribbon a little. He reminded Vimes of a cat toying with a mouse, each movement precisely choreographed, merely giving the illusion of a man preoccupied with his daydream.

‘What time is it?’ he eventually asked.

‘Do you know, I’ve completely lost track. If only I had some kind of device which could—’ he paused and his face lit up again.

‘No,’ said Vimes.

Vetinari reached into a pocket in his robe. ‘Captain Carrot said that he found this in your office—'

‘No,’ Vimes repeated, his face a mask of pure terror.

‘It was making all sorts of noises, I’m told.’ The long fingers drew a small box out of the pocket. Vetinari looked from Vimes to the box and back again, then he smiled.

‘Don’t you dare leave that thing here,’ Vimes pleaded, as he attempted to haul himself up.

Vetinari placed the Dis-organiser on the table, only slightly, but very definitely, out of Vimes’s reach. ‘Well, I’m afraid I really must be going—’

‘At least put it on silent mode—'

‘I’m so glad to see you awake at last—'

‘You bloody well won’t be by the time I’ve finished with you!’ he growled.

Vetinari gave him a wide smile, then the smile fell into an expression of almost-concern. ‘Get some rest, Commander.’

When the door was closed behind him, he heard a muffled “Bingeley-bingeley beep!” and he smiled to himself again.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Just checked and was horrified to discover that a crucial line was missing - must've got lost when I transferred it across to AO3. Proofread your work, kids.
> 
> Edit (2): Changed the chapter numbers to remind myself that I still need to add Vimes's revenge to this! If you're familiar with the Handmaid's Tale (the TV series, although the book is even better), you may recognise the title for chapter 1.


End file.
